I don't want to because boys don't write poetry. Girls do.

I wish that every baby everywhere could land in a family that wanted that baby as much as we want ours.

I wondered about Mrs. Winterbottom and what she meant about living a tiny life. If she didn't like all that baking and cleaning and jumping up to get bottles of nail polish remover and sewing hems, why did she do it? Why didn't she tell them to do some of the things themselves? Maybe she was afraid there would be nothing left for her to do. There would be no need for her and she would become invisible and no one would notice.

The sea, the sea, the sea. It rolled and rolled and called to me. Come in, it said, come in.

Each child brings so much joy and hope into the world, and that is reason enough for being here. As you grow older, you will contribute something else to this world, and only you can discover what that is.

You can't keep the birds of sadness from flying over your head, but you can keep them from nesting in your hair.

Sometimes you know in your heart you love someone, but you have to go away before your head can figure it out.